


Dumb Human Activities

by markipwiwer



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Atomic Wedgie, Happy Ending, M/M, Virus, Wedgie kink, robot talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 13:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18779386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer
Summary: Anti infects Google with a virus that makes him interested in the strange, human activities that the other androids engage in. Why would robots need to wear underwear, anyway?





	Dumb Human Activities

**Author's Note:**

> For @Ronthemess on Twitter!

Google never knocked on Bings door.

As much as it sometimes frustrated or embarrassed Bing, Google found that if he needed to communicate with Bing, it was very likely more important than whatever silly thing Bing was doing in private.

Today, Google walked in on Bing hanging out with Anti. Or, maybe “hanging out” was too literal of a term here.

Anti was sitting, cross-legged, on the edge of a cupboard in Bings room. And Bing, poor, pitiful Bing, was being hung by a thoroughly stretched-out pair of underwear. They had ridden up, showing off his prosthetic ass, and he was... leaking from the front. Googles first thought was merely that it looked uncomfortable. And then there was a pang of annoyance, because Bing was difficult to talk to when he was all excitable like that. If Bing was leaking, it would take at least half an hour for him to be legible enough to be useful.

Anti noticed Google first, and with great comedic timing, the underwear finally ripped and Bing fell to the floor with a small thud. Anti cracked up laughing, and his barely audible greeting to Google between cackles shocked Bing just enough to scramble up off the floor and attempt to hide himself. Not that Google hadn’t been privy to every part of him, but there was something especially humiliating about being caught in a sexual act without even having undressed properly. The stretched and torn underwear hung awkwardly around his pelvis.

“G-Googs! You gotta knock, bro, I-we’re in the middle of - what do you want?!”

Anti jumped down from the cupboard, slinging an arm around Bings shoulder. It was far too casual, really, but Anti not caring was almost comforting to Bing.

“Bing has routine maintenance scheduled on later today, but I had some time free now so I would have liked to get it done sooner. Obviously, with your... antics, that won’t be possible.”

Anti giggles at Googles wording.

“Antics? What do ye mean? Ye never gotten a good ol’ wedgie before, Google? Sure ye can’t blame Bingy boy for bein’ preoccupied!”

Google squinted, in an attempt to calculate whether or not Anti was trying to tease him.

“No, I haven’t. But it seems rather silly. Especially since Bing shouldn’t need to wear underwear in the first place. He’s not some dumb human.”

Anti cocked an eyebrow, his expression getting cheeky.

“Dumb human, ey? Ye wouldn’t wanna be sayin’ that around Wilford, would ye? It’d hurt his feelings.”

Google pondered this. Wilfords feelings getting hurt often meant someone’s insides getting rearranged, and not always in a pleasant way. That wouldn’t be very convenient right now. So he decided to rephrase.

“I simply don’t see the point in such an activity. Why would anyone want to be taunted or embarrassed? It’s foolish.”

Anti could practically feel Bing hearing up in his own shame, looking ready to curl in on himself.

Anti unhooked his arm from Bing and took a step or two forward, sneaking his buzzing hand just into the top of Googles pants, tugging teasingly pulling at the belt loops. There was a quick shock to Googles synthetic skin, that made his sight flash, but nothing too overt. Not yet, anyway. Minor errors when interacting with Anti were pretty common.

“I could show ye, if ye wanted. It really ain’t so bad. All the cool robots get wedgies from me.”

Googles expression was bland, almost bored, and very certainly disinterested. He grabbed Antis wrist and pried his fingers from the belt loops.

“I’m sure I don’t need information on your odd past times that desperately. Or to be ‘cool’, for that matter.”

Anti let his hand be removed, and he shrugged.

“Fine with me. All the more fun with Bingo, huh?”

Google had already turned around to leave when there was the sound of a slap, and Bing made a surprised yelp sound as Google closed the door.

-

Google had retreated to the basement where all the android models worked and charged, and found himself relieved that it was empty at the moment. He rolled his eyes when the Anti-induced error message popped up in his field of vision again, and he felt yet another pang of annoyance when he found he couldn’t dismiss it.

The error text was suddenly replaced with an image of Bing. Suspended in the air by his underwear, looking downright bashful, if not rather beatific. Google was having a hard time looking away, for some unknown reason. Anti looked so... controlling, and yet Bing was having a good time. What was it about these human behaviours that was so appealing to Bing? 

Google felt a strange, warm feeling in his abdomen, like he was overheating, and a strange tightness in his crotch. Even if the image of Bing wasn’t in the corner of his vision, it’d definitely be burned into Googles memory at this point. It was difficult to not keep thinking about it, about the humiliation, about how it must have felt.

Felt? That was a strange thing for Google to be thinking about, how anything felt. That was a human thing. Although Google was capable of emotions, he found them mostly useless. But now they seemed to be flooding his processing power, and he had to sit down at his own desk chair to gain some composure and run a physical scan.

His internal temperature had risen substantially, and he was... oh dear.  
He was leaking. Google had always cursed the fact that he was built with anatomical accuracy, but this didn’t feel... bad. It felt like pressure, like something was buzzing inside of him, and he dismisses the results of his physical scan to actually look down at the source of the feeling.

He was hard. That was not a thing that had happened in a while. Especially not just by itself, with no external stimulation, by complete accident. Almost by some strange instinct, his mind still on the way Bings underwear had ridden up so far, how much it must have hurt, and the pressure on his...

Google undid his fly and his cock sprung out, coated at the tip with artificial lubricant, and he put his hand around the shaft the way he’d seen Bing do more than once. Something inside him, it was difficult to tell what, stuttered, and he let out a small gasp for air he didn’t need. That was... well, it wasn’t bad, quite the contrary, and suddenly the human urge to do things like this, to touch oneself and view lewd images and engage in strange acts like Anti and Bing has been doing didn’t seem so silly or ridiculous or even unnecessary.

The need to fix this, somehow, felt almost as necessary as any objective he’d ever had, and it was overwhelming any logical thought he might have otherwise had, like this how this strange, new sensation was almost certainly because of whatever virus Anti had implanted in him. The image of Bing wasn’t the only thing invading his mind, too, as he began to picture reconstructions of Anti and himself in a similar position. Anti laughing at him, standing over him and pulling up his own underwear - underwear he didn’t even own - to an almost breaking point, the friction on his cock and the tight, almost sting at his ass, just like a human, just a dumb human, under the control of a glitch of all beings...

Google moved his hand, cautiously stroking himself in his office chair, and that was, that was something indeed, and it was a lot of something, something dangerously good, something he needed more of, as as he continued to stroke faster, haphazardly, hardly knowing what he was doing at all, he didn’t even notice the door to the basement opening.

“B-Blue! Oh my, I’m so sorry, I -“

Oliver’s voice shocked Google Blue out of his stupor and he attempted to tuck himself away, the sudden jolt of arousal from embarrassment making him all the more sensitive, and he found himself shaking trying to do up his zipper. This virus was really messing with his every movement and process, huh?

“Oliver, it’s fine, I wasn’t - I’m experiencing some difficulties right now, please excuse me - me, I may need assistance in running diagnostics.”

Google stuttered slightly, his voice glitching, and Oliver’s cheeks were flushing yellow, and Google felt his own cheeks - they were warm as well, likely flushing a deep blue. That was a very strange sensation, and as much as his “gut” seemed to clench in shame, his cock did not wilt, rather leaked even more, and began to make a visible dark patch in his pants.

“It’s... it’s okay, I can help with diagnostics, I just - are you okay? I thought you didn’t do... I mean, that’s pretty human of you.”

Google wanted to scowl but couldn’t find it in himself to be upset with the comment when it made his systems stir like that.

“Oliver, you know a lot about humans.”

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, I guess so.”

Google paused.

“Is being ‘cool’ a desirable trait?”

Oliver continued to look perplexed.

“Um, yeah, usually. Why?”

“Well, Anti - not that I make a habit of conversing with him, but he said that only cool robots got, erm... well, engaged with him in certain human activities. Do you do these things with Anti?”

Oliver put two and two together, Googles oddly aroused state and the mention of Anti, and his yellow blush darkened.

“...I do.”

“Would it be desirable for me to engage in these activities with Anti?”

“Is that what made you... like that?”

Oliver gestured vaguely to Googles damp spot in his pants. Google looked down, the building embarrassment only furthering his arousal, his need to know if Anti could fix his ailment. In fact, his diagnostic results popped up and... the glitches code. Of course.

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter. I simply need to know how to fix it.”

“Then going to Anti would probably be the answer, yeah.”

Google stood promptly from his chair, his cock hard against his pants, hardly hidden in any meaningful way. Before he had the chance to leave the basement though, Oliver addresses him again.

“Blue, hang on. You’ll... well, you’ll probably need one of these.”

Oliver quickly moved to his own desk and pulled out the third drawer. And he threw Google a pair of... well-fitted, white underwear.

“Th-thank you, Oliver.”

Oliver almost smirked at Google stuttering once again, and headed out of the basement to let Google get changed in peace.

-

Anti was fiddling with a pocket knife on the kitchen table when Google walked in, walking somewhat awkwardly. Between his hard-on and the extra layer of clothing that he wasn’t accustomed to, acting normal was proving difficult.

“Anti.”

Anti looked up from the table, at first instantly bored by Googles presence but seeing the strange walk, it must have worked.

“Yo, Googs. What’s up?”

“You implanted a virus in me.”

“Yeah, I guess I did do that, huh? Is it working?”

Google knew that Anti knew. And that mere fact made his everything throb.

“I - I want it fixed.”

“Hm? And how do ye want it fixed?”

Anti was grinning now, sticking his knife into the table so he had both hands free. It was almost frustrating that Anti was just playing around, not caring about the suffering he was putting Google through. 

“Your virus has caused processing issues, physical malfunctions, elevated nerve function, among other symptom. I would like these symptoms to be alleviated.”

“Uhuh. Sounds human to me. Ye look pretty hard too. Want that alleviated?”

Anti gestured to Googles bulge in a far less vague way than Oliver. Google stood nervously, his face warming up once again.

“Well, ye saw that stuff with Bing. Are ye sayin’ that’s what ye want, Google?”

Google shifted, something akin to nervous anticipation pooling in him.

“I - I did not say that.”

Anti glitched for a moment, suddenly appearing in front of Google, his hands crawling under Googles pants just as before. Right there, in the kitchen. Did Anti have no decency?

“Aw, but ye wore these undies an’ everythin’! Are ye suuuure ye want to alleviate these symptoms the boring, robot way? Or do ye wanna have some... human fun?”

Google was not so sure this time. But he did not push Anti away. The light skin to skin contact with Anti didn’t just buzz Googles skin in the normal, annoying way, it was more... more. Similar to a vibration, a vibration that did something rather exciting to his cock, and suddenly, he was struggling to keep composure.

“As - as long as it - doesn’t interfere with my productivity - Anti, it feels...”

Anti practically growled. And then Google was transported, in a flash, to Antis room.

It was small, a little dirty, with strange toys lying around everywhere, and Google decided to put questions aside till later because suddenly, Anti had grabbed a new knife and was cutting right through Googles pants, hardly skimming his skin, with more accuracy than he’d ever expected from the glitch. Googles pants fell into a heap on the floor and he was suddenly very exposed. His cock threatened to escape his tight, white underwear and the new wet patch was larger than he’d expected.

“On ye knees.”

The command pulled Google out of his head, and he looked troubled for a moment.

“How will being on my knees help this process?”

Anti cackled, and put his hand on top of Googles head, pushing down lightly. Despite the small protest, Google found that he did not push back, and fell to his knees easily. The display of weakness, of submission was dizzying, and his cock practically ached.

“There we go. Just like a dumb human.”

Anti bent over, as if to get right down to Googles eye level, but instead he reached right around the back of Google and grabbed the elastic band in his underwear, pulling roughly. Immediately, Google heard the stretching and little threads snapping, it was so sudden, but more importantly, the immediate sensation of the fabric pulling and stretching around his cock, the way he felt almost lifted up, and his cool, exposed ass, it was just...

Google let out an involuntary whimper, and Anti coo’d at him.

“Aw, ye like that, huh? Told ye it was fun.”

Another yank, and it almost stung with how tight the fabric was against his taint, tracing along his hole. Google had to reach out to hold onto Antis jeans just to stay grounded and balanced; that glitch was WAY stronger than he looked.

Google was panting, something he didn’t even realise he could do, and he found himself involuntarily humping into the damp fabric sinfully tight against his cock, a wonderful outline that Anti was glad to have a view of.

“Wow, ye’re pretty worked up there, huh? Tsk.”

Antis condescending tone was only further pushing Google towards something, something big, he was sure of it, and as he caught caught up and swept away in the sensations, the further pulling and stretching and burning and Antis eyes watching, his nasty little giggles and humiliation comments, he felt something on his head.

“Here, this is reserved for especially cool robots! Ye’re very lucky, Googs!”

Anti had stretched Googles underwear up and over his head, like some ridiculous, nerdy hat. Google was forced to look up at Anti reviewing his handiwork, lest he pull his underwear even more. Googles thighs were shaking, he was leaking onto the floor now, looking absolutely pitiful.

“Wow, look at that, ye took it so well, poor little meat sack, that’s gotta be really tight on yer cock, hmm...”

Anti didn’t even had the decency to fake sounding actually contemplative, but Google couldn’t care less at this point, because Anti was crouching down and cupping Googles cock through his underwear.

“Oh! Anti, that’s -“

 

The buzzing vibrations from Antis hand were rendering Google unable to communicate that his system was overheating, that something was happening, and suddenly the build up was too much, he was spilling over, he was -

Google came in his underwear, glitching and stuttering, as Anti made condescending - no, soothing noises in his ears. Google practically doubled over, the sudden tug on the underwear finally snapping the elastic and his head fell forward, keeping a death grip on Antis jeans this whole time.

Google blinked, and his error messages were gone. His internal temperature was already dropping back to its normal rate, his cock returning to its regular shape despite still dripping and being rather sensitive, and Anti had the gall to ruffle his artificial hair.

But... it wasn’t too bad. Even now, that feeling of being below Anti, made him rather pleased. In a strange, sort of backwards way.

Perhaps he didn’t need all of these symptoms alleviated. Acting human wasn’t too terrible. Or rather, it was absolutely terrible, and that’s what made it so fun.


End file.
